


Adonis

by apropensityforcharm



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3729460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apropensityforcharm/pseuds/apropensityforcharm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine Anderson does not have a Napoleon Complex, but he might be getting just a little bit... touchy.<br/>Written some time before season six aired, unearthed yesterday - set in the back half of season five. Pouting Blaine, bemused Kurt, and the fluffiest of fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adonis

When Blaine enters the loft that evening, he’s fuming. His eyebrows are low over his brow, his arms are crossed tight around his chest and his mouth is set in a firm, angry line. He’s about as intimidating as a pouting five year old, but still. It’s not every day that Blaine loses his temper.

Kurt opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong – did someone not stand up for the pregnant lady on the subway? – but Blaine starts in before he even gets the chance to say anything.

‘I’m not that short, you know,’ Blaine snaps.

Kurt blinks and closes his mouth. ‘Okay?’

‘I’m not!’ Blaine insists as though Kurt hadn’t said anything at all. ‘The male national average is 5’9, it said so on Wikipedia, I looked it up. I’m 5’8! How is that tiny?’

‘It’s not,’ Kurt says. He’s feeling increasingly bemused by the whole situation, but Blaine is apparently in one of his more neurotic moods, so he figures it’s best to just nod and concur to whatever he says to avoid putting his foot in his mouth.

‘You don’t _have_ to be a six food Adonis to be a sex symbol, I don’t care what they say,’ Blaine rants on. ‘Like, who even defines what’s hot and what’s not? Who gets to say that blonde six foot Sam is hotter than me? How is that fair?’

‘I think you’re hotter than Sam,’ Kurt offers. Blaine scowls, so that was apparently not quite the answer he was looking for.

Blaine begins pacing back and forth of the floorboards and Kurt twists from his vantage point on the couch to keep track of him. ‘There are plenty of short sex symbols,’ Blaine huffs. ‘Daniel Radcliffe, Bruno Mars – Prince! Prince was 5’2!’

Kurt tries not to smile at the indignant expression on Blaine’s face, like someone had flicked him on the nose, or somebody trod on his paw. He tells himself that Blaine’s startled offense isn’t amusing, but he can’t even begin to convince himself. Instead he points out, ‘And any camera man worth their money knows how to make somebody look taller, right?’

‘Right!’ Blaine sighs and flumps down onto the couch beside Kurt. He looks up at Kurt with those big, imploring eyes. ‘I’m hot, right?’

‘Very hot,’ Kurt agrees.

‘And sexy?’

‘The sexiest.’

Kurt is just barely holding back a giggle fit at this point, because Blaine is frankly _adorable_ when he gets huffy. Blaine gives Kurt a dark look, which tells him that his twitching mouth isn’t nearly as controlled as he might have hoped. Blaine pokes him in the chest. ‘You’re not taking me seriously,’ he accuses and Kurt holds up his hands in innocence.

‘Your situation is absolutely dire,’ he tells him earnestly, hand pressed to his heart.

‘Well, I’m glad you think so, because otherwise we’d be having some words,’ Blaine mutters. He scoots closer to Kurt so he’s pressed up against him and tucks his head into the curve of Kurt’s neck. Kurt smiles and presses a kiss down into his – gelled, gross – hair.

‘So,’ Kurt tries again. ‘Did someone... say something to you?’

 ‘Twits in combat class,’ Blaine explains and wrinkles his nose in distaste. ‘They were talking about the new Hobbit movie and then they asked me if I’d met Frodo down in the Shire. Frodo isn’t even in the Hobbit!’

Kurt strokes a hand down Blaine’s arm and doesn’t say anything.

‘And then when I tried to explain to them that hobbits are generally about three feet tall, which puts me _well_ above the cut off height – ‘

‘Wait, really?’

‘Yes really. Do you think Tolkien forgets _anything?_ Anyway, then they said that that wouldn’t matter to the producers of any of the shows I audition for, because all they’ll see is a shortass with weird hair and they’ll stop listening before I get the chance to open my mouth! I mean, how rude is that?’

Blaine falls back against Kurt’s shoulder with a huff. He’s still frowning, but he doesn’t appear to be in crisis mode, more petulant than anything else, so Kurt lets himself relax a little now that he knows he doesn’t have to do any serious clean up.

‘Santana’s being a bitch about it too,’ Blaine adds.

‘Santana’s always being a bitch about something.’

‘I think she has a sixth sense to sniff out exactly what’s bothering someone so she can really sink her teeth in. It’s eerie.’

‘What did she say?’

‘Oh, you know,’ Blaine sighs. ‘Asking when Rachel and I would be auditioning for munchkin number one and two in Wicked. Which is _totally_ hypocritical of her, _by the way,_ since I’m taller than she is and she’s only like an inch taller than Rachel. She just wears really tall heels so no one notices.’ Blaine pokes his finger into Kurt’s side, making him squirm away. ‘And it doesn’t help that _you_ have model proportions – ‘

‘I’m only 5’10!’ Kurt protests.

‘5’10 _and a half._ And that’s discounting the extra two inches your hair gives you.’

‘Since when do you have a Napoleon complex anyway?’ Kurt asks. ‘You’ve never been insecure about your height.’

‘That’s because I’m not that short!’ Blaine argues mutinously. ‘At least, I didn’t think I was until I got to combat class, and I _swear_ like half of them were spliced with bear genes in their mother’s wombs because there’s no way in hell so many people can be so built in one class. The ratio is, like, way off.’

‘It’s combat class, it’s where all the butch performers stack their majors,’ Kurt says. ‘Plus you and me.’

Blaine smiles up at Kurt. ‘You don’t count yourself as one of the butch performers?’ he teases, and then, ‘Ow! Don’t pinch!’

Kurt withdraws his hand smoothly and the two of them sit in a companionable silence, Blaine apparently calmed down from his resentment. Kurt runs his hand slowly up and down Blaine’s arm, feels his weight pressed comfortably against his chest, while the TV flickers soundlessly in front of them.

Eventually, Kurt says, ‘Besides, even if the douchebags are right and no one hires you, that just means you’ll have to fall back on your plan of becoming a teacher. Then you’ll be surrounded by little gremlins all day and only _half_ of them will already be taller than you – _ow! Don’t pinch!_ ’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much for reading. Kudos and/or comments would be appreciated. <3


End file.
